


A Berry Schmoopy Birthday

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Canon, Gifts, M/M, Mild Angst, Schmoop, Ugh, but it's plenty schmoopy, not actual puppies, slurpy puppies dean and cas, this is gross, this is not as fluffy as i wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gives Cas a gift for his not-birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Berry Schmoopy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is for MademoiselleBelaTalbot. Enjoy your schmoop, Berry ♥

* * *

 

It’s September 18.

 

Dean is waiting in the bunker kitchen for Cas to come out of his room. The guy doesn’t sleep, so Dean’s not sure why he never seems to join the land of the living until so late in the day - later even than Dean, which somewhat impresses the older Winchester. Regardless, he is impatiently tapping his foot as he finally hears Cas’ door open and close again.

Sam is gone for the day, so he knows it has to be Cas. His heart starts hammering and he tells it to be quiet. It doesn’t listen. This had all seemed like such a good idea. Now he is second-guessing himself like crazy, berating himself for being such an idiot.

“Uh, heya, Cas,” he stammers as the angel walks into the room.

Cas, no longer the stoic angry warrior, smiles at him as he walks to the coffee pot. “Hello, Dean. Did you sleep well?”

“Um, yeah, I guess. Listen,” he says, willing his voice to remain even as he tries to swallow the heartbeat that seems to be in his throat. “Uh, since you’re an angel and all you don’t really have a birthday, but this is kinda like the day you got here or whatever…” Dean loses his words altogether and stands there, helplessly caught in that piercing blue gaze.

He’s no longer stoic, but Cas still does that frowny, squinty, head tilty thing where he looks like he’s trying to peer into Dean’s brain. Dean knows it is actually his soul he’s probably reading, but either way, the shaggy head raises quickly and the frown smooths out.

“You wish to give me a gift.” A tiny hint of a smile plays at the corners of Cas’ eyes and mouth, so slight that someone who hadn’t known him for years would miss it.

“Um. Yeah. If that’s, you know, cool.”

“Of course, Dean. I would like that very much. I’ve never received a present before.”

Dean feels even more pressure now, but he’s stuck. He can’t back out of giving Cas the poorly wrapped package that he’s hidden in a drawer. His heart is pounding so hard he can barely breathe as he walks over to get it. He thinks how stupid the gift is, wishes fervently he’d never even thought of it. His cheeks are burning red as he thrusts the gift at Cas as if it might bite Dean’s hand.

“It’s not...it’s not much,” he apologizes.

He watches Cas without breathing, his embarrassment an actual physical pain in his chest. As Cas pulls the book from the paper, he looks at Dean in mild confusion. It’s a leather bound journal. Like John’s almost, but much smaller. Dean paws at the back of his neck, as if he could scrub away the blush there with his hand.

He says nothing and Cas turns his gaze back down to the book. Agile fingers unclasp the cover and flip to the first page. Blue eyes shoot up to Dean’s face and would no doubt pierce through his green ones if he would allow the eye contact, but he stares at the floor.

He knows what the first page says. He has it memorized. It says:

_Memories of Castiel_

_For my angel_

_on his birthday_

And that is exactly what follows on the remaining pages. Every little thing that Dean can remember about Cas. Every good thing, that is. Every moment that lead up to Dean’s realization that the words on the last page are true. The last page has words that Dean cannot say out loud. He has tried and failed in the past. But he finally realized he could write them down. Those words and so many others that he knew Cas needed to hear.

He allows himself to watch Cas read, so he knows the exact moment when Cas reaches the last page. The frown that has put a crease between his eyebrows for the past few minutes disappears. The squint softens out of his eyes and his mouth turns up in an honest to goodness smile.

“Dean,” Cas says, drawing the name out the way that the angel does whenever Dean has done something that moves him. As if knowing instinctively that Dean will be uncomfortable with hearing the words, but will need to know they are true, anyway, Cas says, “I feel the same, Dean. I never dared to hope…”

Dean wasn’t sure who moved first or if they moved together, but suddenly, those plump pink lips are against his and they are kissing. They keep the kisses at gentle suction with no tongue, laying peck after peck against each other’s mouths. Finally, breath ragged, Dean smooths a hand over Cas’ ridiculous hair and sighs against his lips as their noses press together.

“Happy birthday, Cas,” he says, barely audible.

“Happy anniversary, Dean,” Cas replies.

This time the kissing is anything but chaste.

 

* * *


End file.
